


Cusp

by RedHorse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, champagne and canapes, inner monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21988198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/pseuds/RedHorse
Summary: Three days ago in the midst of a battle, Tony put the suit on Peter when Peter’s powers failed. Apparently Peter and Pepper have a few things in common.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 62
Collections: Flashing into the New Year





	Cusp

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [flashing_into_the_new_year](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/flashing_into_the_new_year) collection. 



> For anon! It’s not exactly what I had in mind but I ran out of time. Hope you still enjoy it.

It’s a night of firsts.

Peter’s never had real champagne, that tastes like, he doesn’t know, giddiness?  _ Can something taste like an emotion? _ he wonders, studying the way the layer of effervescence sparkles in his delicate (second) glass.

Peter’s never worn “cocktail attire” and didn’t know what that meant before Ned’s second-cousin’s roommate, Sam, who worked at Bloomingdales before he got fired for helping his manager cook the books, helped Peter pick something out yesterday afternoon.

Peter’s never been to a party where half the guests live in other states and flew in privately for the occasion. They all seem to know one another, even the ones who’ve never met. Peter wonders why he’s here. Yeah, he has his cover working with Mr. Stark, but it’s painfully conspicuous that a humble second-year biological engineer is in the tower tonight. The only other person here pretending to be a mere employee is Happy.

Peter’s never deliberately eavesdropped on anyone—and it was an accident at first—but he can’t help himself now. Miss Potts is telling two women about the time she wore the armor.

Peter’s never heard the story but he feels like he has, because three days ago he wore it too. So when she says  _ it was terrifying, like being swallowed, but it saved my life, _ Peter wants to say  _ that’s not right. It wasn’t terrifying. It was exhilarating. It tasted like a hundred bottles of champagne.  _

Peter’s never thought about what it meant for Mr. Stark to put the armor on him in that moment, when Peter’s powers failed (they’re still not back) and he was twisting in midair, just an ordinary broken person shocked by the realization that when he struck the pavement it would probably kill him. There came the armor, piece by piece and yet encasing him so swiftly it felt like he was swept up all at once, thrusting skyward in the half-second before impact.

Peter’s never had a canapé. He eats one now for the distraction. It has just the right amount of salt and the delicate pastry it’s built on melts on his tongue. Tastes like being surprised. Pleasantly surprised.

Peter’s never dwelled on how Mr. Stark feels about him, but he’s wondering now. All the time and attention made sense when Peter was Mr. Stark’s new discovery, but will it make sense if Peter doesn’t have powers anymore? If he’s just Peter from now on, will Mr. Stark eventually, politely, show Peter out of his personal lab and his personal life? Peter looks around half-heartedly for another tray of champagne, but the elegant waiters floating around to serve it are all in other parts of the room. He overhears the woman speaking to Pepper even without super-hearing when she says,  _ “I’ve dreamed of wearing that armor since I was a kid _ .”

Peter’s never dreamed of wearing the armor, despite growing up with the knowledge of heroes and the certainty Iron Man was his favorite. Maybe because the armor was inseparable from Tony Stark in his mind. But now he wants to put it back on, hear Tony’s voice in the helmet while the armor carries him up into the moonlight, pounding heart and all.

Peter’s never run from his fears, but it feels like that’s what he’s doing when he weaves his way through the party guests and a series of automated doors, and winds up standing on the rooftop. He’s next to the helicopter pad that’s streaked and discolored from the landings of less traditional crafts and various suits. It’s cold. It’s winter now and the wind is unforgiving, quickly penetrating the jacket he left the tag on hoping to make a later return. Peter wonders  _ Am I ordinary now? _

Peter’s never tortured himself by letting himself wonder what it feels like to be loved by Mr. Stark. His commingled awe and jealousy of Miss Potts are something he doesn’t look at directly, like a bright light or carnage, he knows he’s better off not making a close study. But if he had, like he is now, maybe he would have thought it felt like wearing the suit. Being at the center of all Mr. Stark is in his vibrant, extraordinary soul.

Peter’s never going to stop thinking about it now. 


End file.
